“Offshore built this industry, but sure, let’s pretend it didn’t.”
If you wanted a table at Le Bistro in Antigua in the late 90s, you had to be early, lucky, or work in the gambling industry.
“I ate there four nights a week with Bill Scott,” Paris says, smiling. “And if you walked in on any given night, every table would be someone from the industry. It was just… the spot.”
Image: lebistroantigua.com.
They were the bosses of a booming offshore era: WWTS, Carib, Intertops, World Sports Exchange, Playtech, 888. Everyone knew everyone. Deals were made over pasta. Kids’ birthday parties were basically mini-conferences. And if you needed a new office? Good luck. Every building had already been taken over by a sportsbook.
“Eventually, people were working out of villas. The government started to get worried because people were making so much money. Like, how would the economy bounce back if it all went away?”
The scene was dense with personalities, some wild, many brilliant. And it was busy.
“There was a ton of activity. Everyone was creating something. It felt like this rare time where we were all just…there for each other and thriving. It’s interesting because I felt how special it was, even then. I felt how unique those people were. And I just felt so much gratitude to be part of it.”
When innovation was a real word
Everyone had their reasons to be there. Some wanted to build homes, others wanted freedom, and many just wanted to be part of something different. Offshore wasn’t some lawless frontier; it was where innovation happened out of necessity.
“People throw around the word ‘innovation’ all the time now; it’s a buzzword on every panel. But back then, we were doing it for real. We had to.”
Paris is clear-sighted about what that time really meant. She hears the way people frame offshore now, like it was the messy past of a clean present.
“You hear people say, ‘Oh, but, she was in offshore.’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, really? Well, guess what? All these operators wouldn’t be where they are today without that foundation.’”
She doesn’t say it with bitterness; more like a teacher reminding a student not to skip over the first chapter.
Image: The New York Times.
“Vegas started thriving when they started taking the data from the offshore books. Before that? It was all paper and limited to local activity from the books. The products weren’t strong. Offshore helped them get better.”
And behind all that innovation were real people, figuring it out in real time. The Western Union shutdowns, the criminal complaint calls, the looming threat of “this might all end tomorrow.” It wasn’t glamorous, but it was foundational.
“The offshore industry, by default, created the modern betting experience because it always focused on the customer.”
There’s a beat of pride there, but also perspective. Paris wasn’t at every party, she had a young daughter. After her move to Curaçao she continued to live a more grounded version of the chaos: school drop-offs, playdates, and Pinnacle execution tasks. Still, she knew the scene well enough to notice the cracks before others did.
“Eventually, things shifted. Curaçao started having more oversight, and some people didn’t want that. So they’d leave, just disappear overnight to Costa Rica.”
But Paris and Pinnacle wanted to have the oversight, so they stayed. “And even now, there’s still this expat community of people who’ve been here forever. A lot of them aren’t even in the industry anymore; they just chose to stay. It’s home.”
The industry that grew from nicotine-stained offices, that built its empire on the backs of fax machines and villa internet connections, and survived regulatory earthquakes, now lives on through mentorship, memory, and the quiet echo of the people who helped build something big.
“That era gave me everything, but it also gave the industry everything. Whether they are aware of it or not.”
Structure, storytelling, and strategy
Today, Paris is no longer deep in the trenches of operator life. She has stepped away from executive leadership but not from the mission. Now, she , not just in gaming but across the broader tech space, helping young founders navigate the things no spreadsheet can teach them.
“I mentor people the way I wish I’d been mentored,” she says. “It’s not just about growth hacks or fundraising. It’s about knowing how to build under pressure, how to lead when everything’s falling apart, how to do more with less, because I’ve done all of that.”
Nowadays, Paris sits on advisory boards, works one-on-one with founders, and answers cold DMs from entrepreneurs who just need someone to look at their deck, product, or roadmap. She doesn’t care if they’re fresh out of university or on their third pivot.
What she cares about is their mindset.
“I always ask: are you solving a real problem? Do you actually care about the space you’re in? Are you willing to learn? Because if you are, I can help you.”
The help Paris offers comes in the form of structure, storytelling, and strategy. She teaches people how to think operationally, how to hire correctly, and how to keep the culture clean when you go from three to thirty people in six months.
“A lot of people come in with an idea but not a plan. I help them find the plan and the discipline to stick to it. The other key is the ability to pivot in this dynamic, fast-paced industry.
“Knowing exactly what it’s like to be young, ambitious, out of your depth, and thrown into a world no one trained you for, I just really want to pay it forward. I want people to go further than we did, faster, and avoiding the mistakes.”
Paris has seen the full arc, from scribbling down phone numbers on scraps of paper to enterprise-level platforms backed by VCs. And while the mechanics have changed, she’s convinced the core of building something great remains the same.
She’s not trying to replicate the past. That moment was one of a kind. But the lessons? Those still hold.
“I tell them what worked. What didn’t. What nearly broke us. What made us stronger. If that saves someone else a few years of mistakes and thousands of dollars of investments, then great. That’s the point. Ultimately, it still comes down to the people: your team, your customers, and your culture. If you get that right, the rest will follow.”
Odds on Paris in Lady Luck showdown
It’s easy in hindsight to chalk it all up to luck, being in the right place at the right time. But the people who were on the ground at the very beginning know it was effort, grit, learning, showing up the next day, and doing it all over again.
“When I look back now, I think about how incredible it was to have been part of that moment. To build something from nothing and to work with such great, innovative people. So, in that way, I feel very lucky, but I also worked really hard for it!”
So hard, in fact, that this year she will be inducted into the Sports Gambling Hall of Fame, joining other legends of the industry, including none other than her very first phone caller, Billy Walters.
Paris may not be running the show these days, and that’s something she’s just fine with, but make no mistake: She’s still in the room.
